An Evening in London
by Mariagoner
Summary: Jo and Laurie go bashing around in London on their honeymoon... and Jo decides she needs to learn a few new tricks to do her proper duty. Jo/Laurie, married.


Written far, far, faaaaaar back in time with the help of the ever-wonderful Elizabeth Harker who roleplayed the Laurie in this story beautifully. (If you haven't been reading her new Jo/Laurie one-shots, you're desperately missing out!) It's just a one-shot (for now) but since stories about Jo and Laurie on their honeymoon are rather sparse on the ground, I had fun with it anyway.

**Title: An Evening in London  
Fandom: Little Women  
Characters/Pairings: Jo/Laurie  
Rating: PG-13, Innuendo  
Summary: Jo and Laurie go bashing around in London on their honeymoon... and Jo decides she needs to learn a few new tricks to do her proper duty.  
**

* * *

It was the tenth of May, it was near seven in the evening, and it was a crisp, clear night in London that found Mrs. Theodore Laurence, abroad in a new continent on the arms of her adoring husband, in enough of a towering rage to frighten anyone who knew her well away if they ran into her on the city streets.

At first, such a thought might seem absurd to any who might have seen her slender form stalking across English cobblestones from afar. Mrs. Laurence- better known as Jo, Josie, and Jozebel by her mischievous husband- wasn't at first a figure that would seem to inspire much fear. For one, she couldn't have been much older than twenty-two or twenty-three; beyond the smart walking outfit she wore and the brim of her eccentric hat, her face was young and her limbs were lively and she seemed wholly unmarked by anything more than the strain she now bore. For another, a casual admirer might very well have assumed her agitation was at first liveliness and high-spirits; indeed, given the handsome young man behind her, most people might well guess that she was on her honeymoon and might well have cause to be high-spirited with such a swain swooping next to her, looking even to the casual eye as though he were mere moments away from gathering her up into his arms and dancing with her on the streets.

But anyone who knew her, who _really_ knew her, would well have reason to fear. An angry Jo was not any less active than a happy Jo- but she was far more destructive in her moods and tendencies. And even her beloved Theodore Laurence, better known as Laurie, seemed to know that, if the sly look of impending mischief of his face meant anything.

(And as any acquaintance from his college years might have said, with him, it meant _everything._)

In any case, for any one who knew her, the facts were these. It was the tenth of May, it was near seven in the evening, and it was a crisp, clear eve in London that found Mrs. Theodore Laurence, abroad in a new continent on the arms of her adoring husband, in enough of a towering rage to frighten anyone who knew her well away if they ran into her on the city streets. Though curious bystanders might well have simply thought her in high spirits, Jo herself (and the swain who followed her) knew she was in the grip of far darker feelings. After all, she certainly didn't have a tendency to twitch when she was overjoyed, with her gloveless hands (drat it, she had lost them _again_) spasming as though they were ever-so-close to wrapping themselves around a certain lovely, swan-like, upper-class neck attached to a lovely, swan-like, upper-class body belonging to a lovely, swan-like, upper-class beauty who had tried to- tried to-

_Oh_ the very thought of it made Jo want to march back into that theater she and her husband had just vacated, to demand some satisfaction from the insult borne. And given the sound of a choked-off chuckle from behind her, her husband seemed to know it already.

"Teddy," Jo said, with a quiet vehemence that was more frightening than any shout could be, "please don't laugh at me. I'm in a bit of a temper now, you see, and you'd best leave me be. Although I have to say, the next time we go to the theater again and run into that tart, it would probably be best not to hold me back bodily. She might have learned to keep that rude little tongue of hers in her mouth if she'd once get a good thrashing!"

Unfortunately, Jo probably should have known through four tumultuous- although admittedly adventurous- months of marriage that her husband seemed quite unable to leave her alone about anything. Through the past four months, they'd spent virtually every hour of their day together in some ways or another, with Laurie keeping her company even when they did anything as mundane as eat breakfast or visit friends abroad or simply take in the sights of glorious, fire-lit cities that Jo had wanted to see achingly much for years and years. Truth be told, much of the time, Jo very much enjoyed his company, although he did tend to tease like a rascal when he felt she was exaggerating her awe at Europe. And admittedly, on the rare times that she had chased him out of their hotel to have him bundle off for a night out with his friends alone, she had ended up missing him more than she thought prudent, even when she knew he'd stagger back to her at four in the morning with his dark eyes wide and full of mischief he'd rattle off to her grandly.

Ever since they'd been married after the most poignantly irksome courtship imaginable- with Laurie sure he would marry Jo's own sister before they had pushed and pulled themselves into a singular equilibrium- the both of them had come to delight in one another's singular company... even if Jo sometimes darkly suspected that she'd get a lot more writing done if her husband wouldn't interrupt her artistic fits by tackling her so very often with far less intellectual longings.

So yes, if Jo had known nothing else, she ought to have known her beloved wouldn't let the chance to tease her about her suspected _jealousy_ fall by the wayside entirely. And when said beloved stepped in front of her, quenching his smile only to avoid threats to his bodily preservation from his outraged wife, Jo was tempted to throw her hands to the heavens and wonder who on heaven she might have offended to have earned herself marriage to such a busy-body.

"Now Jo," he began, pulling a tragic pout at her that absolutely did not make her want to laugh, no sir, not in the least, "it's not as though we went to see her, and I could hardly help if some empty-headed hoople-head from my misspent youth happened to be at the theater on a night when we came to see a bit of majestic singing." With a solemn sigh that absolutely did not make Jo want to crack a smile, he put one hand down on each of her shoulders, arresting her forward movement on the streets. "And honestly, who are we even talking about, by the by? I'm sure I might have caught some flighty little red-headed thing out of the corner of my eye but I must admit, most of my thoughts were occupied by your delightful radiance, dear."

Laurie, Jo thought as she sniffed in a way that involved all of her impressively formed nose, probably thought that his charm alone was enough to soothe the beast set loose within her. And Jo had learned that over the last few months that he could ply his charm in impressive ways indeed- impressive enough, even, to occasionally lead her away from her writing table when he got a certain gleam in his eyes and promised her more than enough inspiration to make the love scene she was working on go off spectacularly.

However, even for him, there were limits to what magic his lips (and tongue, some mischievous imp in Jo's mind reminded her- and _teeth_) could render. And since it wasn't as though her waves of righteous anger were in any way quelling beneath the smoldering gaze of his dark eyes, the quirk of his thin lips as they formed into an impish smile, or the set of his elegant shoulders as he shifted into an expectant stance she knew oh-so-well from previous evenings...

Not that, Jo reminded herself, she was in the least swayed from her holy anger by such reminders of the tactics Laurie had used on her before. There was simply no time for that!

Even if, a part of her had to admit, sometimes it felt as though there were simply never enough hours in the day... or night... in indulge in _that_...

...Damn his Italian sensuality.

To try and hide that last train of thought from Laurie's keen eyes, Jo ended up giving him a quelling look, even as she stopped underneath his hands and found herself breathing a little faster than before when she resumed speaking. "Teddy, I know you're not _blind._ You wouldn't have made so many faces at me in the theater if you were, dear rascal. You couldn't possibly have missed that... that... that overgrown tart in about 4,000 pounds of red velvet who somehow managed to coordinate batting her eyelashes at you and asking you if I were some homely aunt you were kindly taking on a to-do. If you can tell when I'm sleeping or not at night in pitch darkness, I think you could see her quite clearly!"

His smile grew, although she didn't know if it were because of her reminding him of all the nights he had roused her from a not-so-sound sleep or because of the growing anger on her face. Just to emphasize the latter, however, Jo sniffed once more and glared at him possessively. "If I had the chance, I could have broken her skinny British frame with my little finger. And how dare she call me such a rough looking thing!"

Laurie contrived to look horrified at that, though she was quite convinced she could see more than a little amusement dancing around the lips he tried to set into a firm frown. "Oh yes, that was a ridiculous insult to have made, dear heart. Were she a man, I would have challenged her to pistols at dawn for having the gall to say such things about your radiant beauty. And I see now you must be speaking of that one woman that looked rather like chipmunk in that red swiss-cheese ball gown. Isn't it unfortunate when the people with the smallest minds are also endowed with the biggest mouths and not enough brains to know when they ought to be shut judiciously?"

His hand traveled down Jo's side, his touch just short of being too suggestive for the crowded evening street. Jo sucked in a breath as his calluses- somewhere along the way, he had lost his gloves as well, possibly in solidarity with hers- trailed down the cloth of her evening dress, his fingertips hot even through layers of silk and tweed.

"Still, as entertaining as it would be to imagine a thousand different and creative retributions for the likes of her, there are other things that I'd much rather occupy my mind, and yours, with. I mean-" And here his lips quirked up into a slow, lazy smile that made her stomach tighten for no reason whatsoever. "As long as you don't find yourself a little _too_ angry?"

Despite herself, that last question was enough to momentarily make the question of her anger drop from her mind easily. It seemed to be such a simple question...but coupled with the way he was looking at her, at the magnetic appeal the lines of his lips suddenly held for her eyes, and the way her bosom was presently-

Oh God, her bosom was most decidedly heaving, wasn't it? All they'd need now was to rip each other's clothes off in the middle of the street and they'd end up being like something out of a penny-dreadful that Jo had once slaved for before her marriage had made writing a much more pleasant affair where she wasn't dangling over poverty by the skin of her teeth. She'd disliked the tawdriness of such stories before, even when she admitted them to be exciting, and she felt quite indignant at the very thought that she might be sliding into one with Laurie without even meaning to.

Although to be fair, at least they were _actually_ married and not just pretending to be to trick Baron So-and-So out of an illicit fortune, possibly because Baron So-and-So had tricked one or the both of them in turn, as part of a long ranging plot to...

But before her imaginative mind could start planning a plot along those lines, Jo snapped herself to order with a pinch in her own arm arm that Laurie raised a brow at. She couldn't let him _or_ her own self distract her from what was at stake here! There was nothing less than her pride, after all. And a lady must safeguard such a thing indeed!

Even if the prospect of giving it up momentarily to play along with whatever Laurie had in mind _was_ mighty tempting...

Jo attempted to look furious still, though her mouth wobbled a little despite herself. "Chipmunk in a ball gown? Is that what you really saw when you looked upon one of the most eligible women in London who somehow never realized you were married?"

Laurie didn't answer but held his head high, puffed out his cheeks, and batted his eyelashes in what was a most excellent impression of the aforementioned maiden. He even remembered to toss his short hair from side to side, as though flinging a cupful of auburn curls to and fro his suddenly girlish shoulders. And though she knew she oughtn't encourage something that most certainly wasn't moral, Jo found her jaw dropping a good three inches as her lips began to tremble in an effort not to laugh aloud and call even more attention to them on the street.

After all, a woman had her pride, and it was one that could only be injured by her dear husband knowing that he could diffuse her great and towering wrath oh-so-easily. Really, Laurie was getting much too prideful about being able to manage his strange, unorthodox, utterly odd wife, who remained such a enigma to polite society. It would probably be well for Jo to remind him that he couldn't tame her quite _so_ easily.

Or at least, it would have been a good reminder, if Laurie hadn't taken the moment to thrust his hip to the side in a way that made even bystanders stare and pout his lips girlishly. And that was when Jo finally had to give up on salvaging her pride, laugh aloud and shake her head affectionately at the pleased look that dawned on his face in knowing he had soothed her.

"You're a terrible person for doing that," Jo ended up saying, even through her gasps of laughter. "Though no more terrible than I am for finding that side-splitting! Oh, I know I should scold you for being such a scoundrel but- oh God, you had the look on her face down perfectly!"

"Really?" Laurie said, looking far more gratified than repentant. "Why thank you, it's all the cheeks."

She had to smile at that, the last of her anger at the wretch trying for _her_ husband in the theater melting away. After all, it was hard to keep being so angry when Laurie was so merry and showed no signs whatsoever of being the least bit intrigued by whatever mystery woman had made such a bold play at him. It was one more load off her mind, at least.

And when he smiled at her like that, when he grasped her hand so confidently in his and led her all the more easily down the London streets where they would soon slip into their hotel room and he would show her again how little other women meant to him currently...

She almost wished she could do the same for him, could do something grand enough to justify his attention, and could do so with the same level of urgency and perfection. But as always, somewhere between her mouth and her brain, connections frazzled and nerves were lost and instead, she ended up muttering something else, something so beside the point, it made her wonder when and why she'd turned into such a coward in her married years.

"I've no doubt about that," Jo ended up saying instead. "And you know, I do wonder now if maybe the fact that I'm just as much a terror as you is precisely why you married me."

"You are," Laurie said, not missing a beat. "And that, my dear, is why we are a force to be reckoned with. I fear we'll take over the world one night, if we're not careful. I call for being dictator of somewhere warm and sunny."

She had to laugh at his absurdity as they continued to walk toward their hotel suite, wondering how on earth anyone could say that she had a mad imagination when her wonderful husband could be such a lunatic himself. "And what would I want to take over the world for anyway? I've already got you in my kingdom and you're a handful. I'm not sure how much else I could take! I might very well shatter under the strain of it all, Teddy."

He shrugged and looked calmly unconcerned, though Jo noticed that his arms now tightened a little on her, as he moved them both faster toward the hotel that she could see faintly across the city streets. "I'm sure anything would be worthwhile as long as we do it together... though I must admit I can think of a few things that might be more exciting than world domination at present. Can you guess them, dear?"

Actually, given how much he'd found he'd enjoyed teasing her about her very slight, almost imperceptible jealous streak today, Jo very much could.

But also given as much, she thought that turn-about might well be fair play.

Which was precisely why she decided now was a good time to start deliberately slowing down in her pace, lagging behind him to the point where he had to bite back an oath and look at her with a puzzled face that she blinked at innocently.

"Guess?" she chirped instead, as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I can, dear sir! I love guessing games indeed. Let me think... does it have anything to do with the theater? I know we just came from one but I've heard that there's a brilliant new revival of Orpheus going on in the ol' Coliseum just a few blocks from us."

And then, tilting her head at him and pretending not to see his noble brow begin to twitch, she smiled sweetly. "Or am I guessing wrong? I do love these games but I frequently lose at them. Just my poor luck, you see."

Laurie's brow continued to twitch slightly at that, in that way Jo had come to delight in oh-so-well in their marriage so far. Soon enough, though, he recovered and Jo blinked as she saw a wicked grin spread on a face that soon came far too close to Jo's own. She should have remembered that if she wanted to play games with him, he made an all too clever opponent...

"Truly?" he asked, and the cool unconcern in his voice as he dawdled in the London street a block away from their private hotel room made Jo's eyes narrow. "My mind was rather following a different line of thinking but..."

And before Jo knew it, he had his arm pressed solidly around her shoulder, ready to steer her down a completely opposite street even as she squeaked and frantically wondered why he was changing their path. "You may have the right idea! After all, I can think of no one I'd rather see Orpheus at the opera house with. It may already be evening but I don't think it's too late to buy a pair of tickets if we hurry..."

Oh, hey now! (A little voice in Jo's mind was already beginning to howl.) That was no fair! He wasn't supposed to take her teasing him about delaying what would inevitably happen in their private quarters _seriously!_ He was meant to _protest_ and she was meant to laugh at his indignation and eventually they'd end up in their hotel room and in their bed and he'd help her out of this ridiculously stuffy evening dress and set her hair free from its coils with his sleek pianist hands and set his talented lips at her shuddering shoulders and-

Oh, this was just not _on_ here.

Blushing hotly from her recollections, she interrupted his slow march by planting her feet on the street and refusing to budge. Indeed, even when she spoke, she looked up at him with eyes that were positively stormy. "Well, it's nearly sunset, Teddy! The time for buying tickets is over by now, no matter how much you ply the attendants with words or bribery. At the very earliest, we'll have to go back tomorrow morning."

That didn't seem to sway her husband. His grin only widened as he looked at his watch. "So it nearly is. What a pity. However, from what ol' Fred's told me, there are always the street performers in Convent Garden, if you're looking for a little evening entertainment." He paused, his air one of a man who could not think of higher happiness on earth than to be admitted to such sights. "What better way to spend what remains of the evening?"

Well, Jo for one could think of a much livelier- if admittedly sticker- way. But if this was how Laurie was going to play their little game...

Well, he might have been a rather magnificent and expertly attentive husband but she didn't think she was quite as terrible a wife as she could be either. Maybe she would have been to any other man, indifferent and a little annoyed by their desires and needs- but for whatever reason, she wanted to do her best by her Laurie, no matter how inscrutable he could sometimes be. And after giving him the same careful consideration she might well give to a piece of writing that wasn't working, she decided that Laurie wasn't perhaps quite as happy about delaying certain pleasurable moments as he now tried to appear.

...Probably.

..._Hopefully._

Well, only one way to find out. And Jo hadn't wanted to be an actress in her youth for nothing.

Which was why she now forced a bright smile on her face that made Laurie's eyebrow shoot up on his forehead once more. "Oh, darling," she murmured in a theatrical simper that had him staring at her, "I would be so honored if you would take me! We could spend all night there, if that's your dearest wish. Although..."

And though it was probably cheating within the parameters of their game to stop him with her fingers trailing across the firm line of his chin and to swing herself in front of him mid-movement, moving so close that- wife or no- it looked more than a little outside the realm of proper societal fashion, their bodies pressing so near to each other in a pool of silence near the busy city streets it was positively indecent, so close she could feel his suddenly quick breath fall against her barely parted lips...

Well, it was probably cheating but in a game that combined both love and war, Jo decided all was fair. And at the least, from the way his breath hung suspended in his long, slender throat as her lips nearly brushed his in the busy London streets, Jo knew it was working yet.

Which was why she now gazed up at him through the veil of her dark lashes, her hands propped sweetly under his neck. "Although we do have an engagement to meet Amy and her dear Fred right at the top of the morning, so we'll get no privacy for the next few days _whatsoever._ Shame when family obligations short out our own pleasures, isn't it? Especially when..."

His breath was hot against the rim of her ear as she moved in closer, till her lips moved softly against his ear-lobe with every torrid stir of her breath.

"Especially when," she murmured, knowing full well what she did to him and what he was capable of doing to _her_, "I'm still dreaming of last night. With you. And me. And those grapes you brought from the farmer's market and used so... expertly."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his Adam's apple bob at the thought, although he kept his face admirably calm. "Oh really? I thought you enjoyed the bit with the strawberries more."

Jo fought a brief but futile battle against the flush on her cheeks, although her voice was still even when she spoke. "Oh, that was an inspired bit of improvisation. But I still liked the grapes even more. They were very... sweet."

Her husband laughed softly and she was so near she could feel it against her own body, as his hands came up to caress her back slowly. If they weren't garnering stares before, they probably were now. "Then I have a confession to make." When Jo peered up at him through her lashes again, he didn't look entirely serious- and the sparkle in his eyes truly was irrepressible.

Still, Jo had to admit herself piqued, and she broke character long enough for her eyes to go wide and her voice to give away her surprise. "A confession? _Really_? About what?"

But no- no, she mustn't give in so easily. Her husband was a tricky one and for all she knew, it might well have been just another way of steering her into the direction he pleased. Love him though she might- and oh, God help her, she _did_- she didn't want him to get all wild and unmanageable on her.

Besides... if she had to admit to the truth, she rather liked playing these games with him, an extension of all the times they have quarreled and reconciled as children who only knew dimly how much they wanted each other. If nothing else, it certainly kept life interesting.

And that had, after all, been one of her reasons for marrying the quixotic man who was now so expertly teasing her.

Which was why she now turned to him, a suspicious glint in her eye, as she pressed her fingers gently to his chest, her wedding ring glinting in the soft light still around them. "What of, dear Teddy? Are you going to now reveal all this time, you've been keeping something of mad import to me? A mad wife in the attic of some abandoned house, possibly?"

Laurie leaned in as if to kiss her cheek, in an entirely acceptable and even familial fashion. But when his lips scraped against her tender skin, it brought on feelings far less tidy.

"You've been reading too much Bronte again," he whispered. "Next, I imagine you'll tell me that I aim to abduct you into the moors for some epic tragedy. And I regret to say this but I don't believe we can spend any more time outdoors, let alone in a park. Because if we did, I'd have no choice but to ravish you in front of anyone else around, and who knows how on earth the good officers patrolling about might respond?"

That was it and that was more than enough. And even as Jo's mouth dropped and she stared wide-eyed at her husband, he took her hand in his in the same nearly chaste fashion and began pulling her in a quick trot off to their hotel, already peeking into view, his next few words polite enough to be overheard by any on the street. "And that would be most inconvenient, I think you'll agree. So we may as well call this an early evening."

Which was enough, of course, to make Jo decided as she marched by her husband's side, that she'd have to kill him for such magnificent perfidy within their playing. It would be a very noble and tender and tragic death, since, after all, she loved him and she hadn't precisely been playing fair herself. But given the _images_ he had just planted in her head- in the middle of the _street_-

Well, when he had made her almost topple over at the thought of being ravished by him in public, she was pretty sure he'd left her with no choice at all. For the sake of her honor, she was just going to have to kill him, ask Amy to help her grind him into some glorious paints for her delicate artistic palette, and flee the entire continent as a treacherous black widow of a woman.

...Even if some terrible little voice inside her told her it'd be a damn waste of his magnificent form so soon after the wedding.

Suppressing a twitch that she was currently denying was as much passionate as anything else, Jo forced a smile upon her lips for the benefit of everyone string at the min the street. "Oh. Yes. Ob. Vious. Ly."

Still trotting along, Laurie gave her a side-long smirk. "Are you sure? You seem quite flushed. Would you like to stop for a moment and take a rest, my dear?"

Wait, did she say noble, and tender, and tragic? Was it too late to wholly rearrange those adjectives for something a little more spiteful?

Jo found herself eying her all-too-cheerful husband with a longing to do less than carnal- or, oh, all right, something more brutal along _with_ carnal- things to his altogether much too handsome form. "I'm pretty sure if I did, you'd hoist me into your arms without a second notice, tell me you can do so because it's our honeymoon, and stride off into our rooms anyhow." And then, as tartly as she could, though she was afraid some suppressed longing might have come through: "Or am I mistaken?"

The impetuous young man she knew so long ago might well have told her yes and earned a thrown shoe at him for thus speaking. Luckily, the less impetuous- if equally mischievous- older man he had grown up into apparently knew when to hold his tongue to keep his wife happy. Which might have been why her husband finally smiled at her and said, very happily: "Good God, Jo- not in the least. I want you too badly to pretend otherwise. May we make haste, please?"

And though it probably was giving in and letting him score a point in the eternal games they played with one another, Jo could not help but smile and give in to his boyish charm at last. After all, she _had_ been the one to start this game off by provoking him so. And he _had_ been so good earlier this evening, when he hadn't misplaced his hands or eyes anywhere but on her person, even when a certain red-head insisted on believing he'd taken his spinster aunt to a play instead of his wife of merely 20 weeks...

Jo supposed loyalty like that ought to be rewarded handsomely. Which was why she now sidled next to him with a smile, her lanky body somehow fitting perfectly next to his solid form, her hand coming up to clasp his at the pleased smile he shot at her.

It was enough, almost, to make her want to say something reassuring, to say something that would fix that radiant smile of his on his face for a very long time to come, and make him realize she more than knew how lucky she was to have him, despite everything she'd put him through previously and everything she was currently. It was enough to make her wish that her edges around even him were a little less sharp, her temper a little more blunted, her plainness a little less glaring against all the other women he could have had in this fair city. It was enough to make her wish that she had the words to tell him that-

But as always, she held back, and even the diamond ring that glinted on the fourth finger of her left hand could not lead her to say words that so often needed saying.

Instead, she swallowed hard and tried to look up at him with a coy smile that would hide her anxiety. "We should," she said, and batted her lashes hard enough to make him chuckle. "Otherwise, I have a feeling that the consequences could be quite dire indeed!"

That feeling was compounded by the amused look her husband gifted her with, which served to partially mask the hunger beneath it. "Oh," he murmured, his fingers flexing slightly as they entwined with hers, "you don't even know the half of it, my dearest, queerest Josephine."

She had to bite her lip as she looked at him, intrigued despite herself. "Don't I? I would have thought by now, I'd know you and your tricks all too well!"

Rather than answering the question directly, however, Laurie carried on walking serenely, another inexplicable smile blooming on his face before he turned his intense gaze back at her.

"Do you like the dress you're wearing now, Josie?"

A little startled at the change of topic, she looked down at it, watching her elegant skirt flap about her as they hurried along, only half a block from their hotel. "Ah... yes? I suppose? You picked it out, after all, and God knows it's better than what I would have chosen for myself. We both know I've got all the fashion sense of a color-blind epileptic baboon from the fourteenth century."

"Now that's an interesting comparison to make," he quipped, still holding her hand as they drifted forward. "And that out _does_ flatter the flare of your hips and the soft swell beneath your collar immensely... which is why I'd imagine that it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to resort to ripping it off you as soon as we reach our hotel."

One of these days, Jo told herself, she was going to learn to stop flushing and blushing like a love-struck school girl every time her husband said something of this sort. One of these days, she was going to buck herself up and look him in the face and respond as coolly as her sister Amy would to such romantic delicacies. One of these days, she was going to act like a Mrs. Theodore Laurence _should_ and not get all flustered at any single sign of how much he wanted her or feel that hard ball of guilt and deceit form inside the pit of her stomach from the knowledge that she could not- and might not ever- be good enough to deserve them truly.

But that day was not today. And when Jo snatched her hand from her husband, cheekily smiled at him with a flushed face and told him that the last one to their hotel room wouldn't get to wield their next batch of strawberries, she was almost glad of it.

After all, although being a respectable and composed married woman surely had it's compensations, being one that was prone to being discomposed could be wonderful as well. And when she soared through the streets of London just in front of her husband as they laughingly raced to their honeymoon suite, Jo decided that soon enough, she'd improvise another way of deserving her Teddy.

***

If they had been racing in the open forests in Connecticut, Jo was willing to bet whatever was left of her maidenly virtue that she might have been able to out-race her husband through sheer wit and an intimate knowledge of the paths surrounding them. Unfortunately, the busy streets of London were far more difficult to navigate- especially in a tight evening dress and pinched heels- and Jo had to watch in dismay as her husband outdistanced her easily with his absurdly long legs and comfortable trousers.

Honestly, it wasn't as though it were _her_ fault that men's fashions were always so much more comfortable than what women had to wear! And Jo was still pouting a bit when she finally ducked into the hotel, ran up the stairs to duck the concierge, and met with Laurie- flushed from exertion and laughing- as he held the door to their honeymoon suite open for her.

"What were you saying about strawberries again?" he asked brightly, although Jo chose to stick her tongue at him instead of answering, before slipping in to the elegant and absurdly expensive quarters he had booked for them both.

Once within, Jo could not help but sigh a little as she ran forward and once again saw the breathtaking view of the city streets once more from the balcony window. Once upon a time, when she had been young and impetuous and perfectly sure that she would never marry, she had assumed she would only visit a country such as this as a companion to her crotchety aunt, a poor relation who would live off whatever scraps of kindness her social superiors might fling to her occasionally. She had never wasted her time feeling sorry for herself; indeed, if anyone had ever asked her if she had felt ill-used, she would have denied it and stoutly maintained that years of having to struggle in both Conchord and New York had only sharpened her talent considerably. She had once even prided herself on her flinty independence, on her way of getting along in a world that sometimes seemed almost actively opposed to her making her way, and she was still glad of those years she had spent thriving without needing anything from anybody.

And then, of course, she had married her best friend, and everything she had known about the independent spinster life had been turned on its heels completely. All of a sudden, she would likely never again need to worry about making her month's rent, or forgoing a meal to buy parchment, or struggling with making ridiculous deadlines in order to endure in the city just yet. And all of a sudden, she had finally managed to reach her dream trip to Europe side-by-side with someone she loved and who almost wildly loved her back, who did his best constantly to provide her with every possible luxury and make her happy-

And who so often made her feel so, so, so incredibly guilty about not giving him enough for his love, no matter how often he protested that being allowed to be with her was payment enough already.

He tried so hard to please her, her Teddy. So hard, as though some part of him worried that if he were to stop striving her constant approval, she might fade away like the mist in his very arms, like a dream that would evaporate under the harsh lights of reality. And worst of all, perhaps, was the fact that she couldn't truly blame him for feeling that way, for being anxious underneath that veneer of charming self-confidence that only she seemed able to pierce.

After all, it wasn't as though she had made things easy on him before they had married. It had taken them far more time and effort and the pain of nearly breaking a sister's heart before they had realized that any life that didn't include the two of them being together would be a barren life indeed. And anyway, it was hard for Jo to blame him for sometimes feeling uneasy in their marriage when she often worried about changing in it as well, either becoming too soft and too dependent on him... or paradoxically, not changing enough, not being enough the refined young mistress of the manor that she knew Laurie would require her to be once they stopped playing around in Europe and went back to their waiting home in New York to truly start living.

Either way, Jo didn't like the thought of change. She never had, truly. If she could have, she suspected she would have frozen time in amber long before, before anyone had to die and anything had to change and any dreams had to fade away slowly.

No, Jo didn't like the idea of change very much. Never would, honestly. But if it brought Laurie's hand in hers, his mouth on hers, his quiet assurances and his warm whispers and the way he looked at her now, as though he could ground her within himself to keep the world away from her, as though he needed her truly...

Maybe she couldn't say _I love you_ as nakedly as he did, or as constantly. Maybe she would never be able to be as open and honest as he was effortlessly. Maybe she would never be able to kiss his lips without wondering what could have been in another life, if this hadn't worked out currently. Maybe she would never be the wife he deserved, never be as beautiful or demure or refined as a Mrs. Theodore Laurence deserved to be.

Maybe people like the woman in the theater would always look at them and wonder what she had done to ensnare a man who deserved so much better.

Maybe she'd also always wonder the same thing.

But she surely could still make all those little betrayals up to him somehow. Surely she could find a way to please him even despite their enormous disparity.

Even as those thoughts fashioned themselves into coherency in her mind, she could feel the object of them stealthily move behind her as she stared down at the darkening city below their room, lighting candles here and there, undoing the most cumbersome aspects of his fine evening dress, and making things as perfect for the evening as he possibly could. And when he finally finished freshening up and joined her at their balcony, his lips met the shivering nape of her neck as he maneuvered her back against his chest and gathered her waist in his hands with possessive tenderness.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked her, his eyes curiously scanning the same London sunset she had been enjoying. "When you get that pensive look on your face, dear, I don't know whether to be afraid or merely worried."

She had to smile, her hand automatically settling on his own, squeezing them softly. "Are those your only two choices? I don't know if I ought to be ashamed or alarmed by the way you don't trust me!"

He simply laughed, and this time, it fanned against her neck and made the skin below the line of her hair shiver pleasantly. "You shouldn't be either if at all possible. Given that we are now legally man and wife, you may leave all such worries and conundrums to me."

It was a statement surprising enough to abruptly tear Jo away from her own pensive thoughts and in the end, torn between laughing and glaring at him, she settled for shooting him an exasperated look over her shoulder while she tried to hide her chuckle in her hand. "Indeed? Lord, Teddy, please tell me you haven't been taking all that advice on how to conduct yourself befittingly in marriage from your grandfather _seriously_! He's a lovely man, of course, but the day I let myself be dictated by you blindly..."

Not sounding the least concerned, he laughed himself and kissed her neck once again, taking shameless advantage of the fact that he had spent the last few months of their new marriage mapping out her weakest points assiduously. And when she gasped and arched her back against him, he smoothed his hands against her hair and moved on. "...Is the day your brilliant brains dribble out your ears because I took up hypnoses. I know, Jo, I know. After all, between the two of us, you _are_ the brighter one. I promise you, I would never actually want you to stop thinking as you do, no matter how mysterious you can be."

And wasn't that one of the reasons she had married him in the end? More than any other man she knew, he _respected_ her, absolutely, completely and truly. He knew her, in all her neurotic and frequently exasperating glory, and he loved her anyway, despite all the trouble she could be. How many other men could say that of their new-found brides? How many other men would have tried to change her for the "better," instead of accepting her as the very real and very fallible person she could be?

She loved him. Maybe not as as volubly or as passionately or as selflessly as he loved her but she felt in nonetheless, in her brain and blood and body. And if there was something she could do to make it up to him... to make up for her natural thorniness and the thousand different ways she made his life less simple and easy...

Heedless of her thoughts, her most excellent husband had begun nuzzling her once more through the lull in their conversation, although he pulled back once he had made her blush hard enough to match the sunset spreading out before them. "And now," he began, his voice dark and low and a little rough, "shall we get to the evening's bodice ripping?"

And somehow, like a strike of lightning hitting her right between the shoulder-blades at the excitement barely reigned in between his words and his hands and his lips almost on hers at the thought of what was to come in the evening...

"Jo?" Laurie asked again, now starting to look a little alarm as his new wife simply stared at him, eyes quite blank as she seemed to gaze beyond him. "Er... do you perhaps want to do something else?" And then, quite heartbreakingly, his eyes dropping down from hers: "Have I somehow managed to overstep my boundaries?"

Well, suddenly Jo thought she knew at least one very wordless way of demonstrating just how much she treasured his company- especially if her treacherous tongue still refused to simply spit it out presently. It would be a _brilliant_ way of settling things indeed! And needless to say, going through with it would almost certainly prove to her husband that she did want to repay him for his company, however passive and dumb-struck she might have seemed previously.

Now if only she could be sure she wouldn't make a fool of herself or pass out from blood-loss as she executed the plain forming in her brain presently...

"No!" she all but cried in response, as her plan began to form in her mind finally. "No, I don't want you to do anything else _but_ stay here with me! In fact... if you don't mind... indulging me...?"

"I'll be happy to indulge away," he returned quickly, his faded smile now returning full force, the fingers that had been falling from her hips gripping her again with a fervor. "In whatever manner you want from me."

"You may regret saying that," she told him dryly, though he grinned brightly at her and did not look convinced. "And are you quite sure you'd be willing to give me whatever freedom I ask for, with absolutely no complaining?"

"Very," he told her, and beneath that cultured tone lay just a hint of something deeper and rawer, something that came out when he surged forward to kiss her, his mouth hot on hers, his tongue slipping past her lips, his fingers rising from the curve of her hip, up the ripples of her ribs, to toy determinedly with the curve of her soft breasts. And when he moved away, his eyes gleaming with that dark, dangerous light that never failed to make her knees tremble like reeds along a windy bank, he grinned again, repeating himself.

"Very, very, _very._"

And if her answering smile was tinged by just a slightest smidgen of anxiety- well, that did not mean that Mrs. Theodore Laurence was about to simply give up and leave off, after all.

A woman must have her pride, just as a man must have his pleasure. And Jo wanted him to know he was loved enough this evening to carry off both qualities...

...Which was why she finally answered him through a crooked smile, even as she slipped past him from the balcony and beckoned him into their bedroom again with a fan of graceless fingers that he had slipped a wedding ring onto so earnestly. "Then come back into our bedroom," she said, and watched the smile on her husband's face grow and grow. "Do whatever you you must to loosen up. And then I want you to sit on our bed and simply..."

She trailed off for a minute, suddenly feeling yet another stab of doubt pierce into her, of the same shape and savor of what she always felt when she tried to please him through subverting their daily routine. It was the same voice that spoke to her all too often in her aunt's tone, the voice that told her that if she couldn't even be graceful enough to carry normal wifely duties off, how in the world could she possibly hope to show him how much he meant to her through only the movements of her body...?

But when Jo took another shaky breath and looked up at him, Laurie's eyes were bright enough enough to match all the lights in the whole of their new city. And when she paused, he simply smiled again and cocked his head in wait for her, the way he was so patient in waiting for her in everything.

It was enough to decide her, then, that she was doing the right thing.

"Then sit down on our bed," she bravely continued, beckoning him forward further and further, "and simply... _watch_ what I'm doing."

And when he closed the door behind him as he followed her in, his eyes gleaming with promise, Jo could only hope she would be able to pull off what she hoped to do to him currently.

* * *

**Author's Note**: This _was _meant to have a follow-up chapter to it but I must confess... at this point, I rather doubt it will. But in any case, I do hope you enjoy what's here now. Reviews are always appreciated. And if anyone wants to write the second chapter... you have my blessing!


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